Growing Up
by JuliennePotato
Summary: Because after all, fairies don't age the same way as humans. Complete.
1. Chapter One

Growing Up

**Summary: **Because after all, fairies don't age the same way as humans.

**Author's Note: **OK, this is a little trilogy I've embarked on. Nothing major, just a collection of shorts I think I can create a tenuous link between. :)  
This particular chapter was written in one sitting, and is un-beta-ed (i.e. probably full of errors).

**

* * *

1.**

All in all, Holly thought, the last twenty years had been good for her.

That wasn't to say it had been completely free of danger - there had been the Case of the Sporadically Exploding Sweartoads, and before that, the Mysterious Disappearance of Foaly's Carrots, in which she had uncovered a conspiracy to depressurise Haven and very nearly lost her life. But Foaly's carrots had been returned safely, which was the main thing.

However, she'd led a good, almost charmed existence. Rising through the ranks of the LEP with inexorable ease until last year, when Trouble deigned to sit at the Council, she finally received the triple acorn badge and became the first female Commander of the LEP. The badge sat, gleaming, on the front of her lapel, and she looked at it often.

_Trouble._

He'd done well for himself, too. Good at his job as Commander - a little _too _good, as it happened, and within a year of taking up the post he was beginning to be badgered by the other members of the Council to take up a seat. He'd resisted as best he could for nearly fifteen years, but eventually fell under the politics of it all. She wondered whether he was at a Council meeting now; sat in the faux suede chairs, eating vole curry and wincing in regret as the belt of his trousers began to cut into his ever-expanding abdomen. Grub - _Captain _Grub now - would have a field day.

A knock at the door. "Commander Short?"

Speaking of Grub...

"Yes, Kelp?" When she first took up the position of Commander, she had attempted to be friendly to her inferiors, but quickly learnt that friendliness got little done. So she sat, on the lonely edge, for the sake of her city.

"It's nothing too bad, Commander. A sighting, but the humans thought they were hallucinating." Grub said, stepping through from the strip-lit hallway into the darker chief's office. Wearily, she waved an arm that meant _elaborate._ It was nothing too interesting. If the humans thought they imagined the fairies then the LEP would probably be able to contain the situation without needing a single mind-wipe. Sometimes Foaly liked to send Grub up to see her about pointless missions, just to watch him get toasted. "Couple of tourists spotted at Tara without shields."

_Tara?_

As a rule, fairy sightings at Tara were never considered high-priority - most of the humans that ventured there were taking some form of hallucinogen - but the name stirred something in Holly. Something half-forgotten, echoing back to her as though from someone else's memory.

She sat silent for a little while, until Grub coughed and spoke. "This...wasn't relevant. Was it?"

Holly shook her head. "Not really, no. Did Foaly send you?"

Captain Kelp, who had tensed in preparation for a verbal onslaught, visibly sagged with relief at being able to offload the blame. "Yes. He told me you'd be very interested to hear it."

With a push, she rose out of the cracked leather chair that was the epicentre of the LEP. "Well, he got that right."

Five minutes later, she stood outside the LEP's Operation Booth. In twenty years, little had changed to the titanium cube apart from the number of fibre optics that protruded from irregular points about the outside. It was beginning to resemble an armour-plated hedgehog.

On cue, the soft underbelly poked its head around the outside of the door. "Holly! I saw you coming."

The past twenty years had wrought a more profound change on the LEP's technical genius, Foaly. Where once he had been a self-professed loner with paranoid tendencies, since marrying his centaur girlfriend, Caballine, they had produced a veritable herd of offspring. While his technological work suffered, the centaur had never seemed happier.

"Foaly. Why did you tell me about the tourist sighting at Tara?"

He scratched his chin. "No reason, really. Grub was here, I was here, the scopes picked up on the sighting...I thought our Commander-in-Chief should know about it."

Holly crossed her arms. "That's not the reason."

"Well...no. But I wouldn't have thought you'd storm all the way down here to defend little Grub's honour. What's _your _reason for doing that?"

Mismatched eyes widened. Foaly sighed. "Of course. Fowl."

"What about him?"

"You miss him."

That caught her off guard. "What?"

"As your job's gotten tougher, you've spoken to him less and less. I'm betting you've spoken once in the last five years. If that."

She said nothing. Her glare was enough. Foaly felt the room heat up by several degrees.

"That's why you've leapt on this Tara sighting. It's your subconscious."

"I wouldn't have had you down as a psychologist." She remarked, feeling exposed by the insights the centaur was making.

"Take the Tara assignment for yourself. I'm betting you haven't been to the surface in several years either. If nothing else you need to complete the ritual, for the good of your health."

She gritted her teeth. "Are you telling me what to do?"

Foaly gasped in mock-horror. "Me, ma'am? Wouldn't dream of it. Just thought you'd like to know your colouring is beginning to match Root's."

**2.**

Several hours later, Holly had rushed through her re-activation, ordered a surface visa, and taken the shuttle up to Tara, disrupting a small family of gnomes who had waited several decades to get to the surface.

Even as the port opened and the surface air flooded in, Holly felt more relaxed. She hadn't noticed it below ground, but the muscles in her back were knotted and cramped to a point of agony. Perhaps Foaly had been right about the trip being good for her health.

She located a helmet and a pair of wings - a new range of Foaly's, suspiciously similar in design to Opal Koboi's DoubleDex range - and without further ceremony, kicked off the Irish peat soil to climb gratefully into the expectant night.

Her aim was simple: she had to track the two humans who had seen the fairy tourists, and fit them with a new surveillance device (a tiny microphone, grown from a genetically-engineered plant, so it decomposed naturally within a few days. It was, according to Foaly, a breakthrough to match the discovery of fire. Holly thought it was just a lump of fancy lichen). All she had to do was attach it to the humans, probably under the nails, and then they could be monitored for a while until it was certain they weren't about to reveal their sighting to anybody else.

And within another few hours, as dawn was breaking, that aim was accomplished. In a small block of flats near Kilclare, she scooped up the sleeper-deeper - a precaution, to make sure the humans didn't wake up while she was busily attaching the microphones - and left the little apartment.

As she climbed into the air again, safe behind her shield, she contemplated what to do next. Foaly had insisted she left that evening, as there was 'no time to waste' if the humans did reveal what they saw to anyone else, but the full moon she needed to complete the ritual was not until the following night. Spiralling lazily through the air, she came to the conclusion that there was nothing for it but to wait at the Tara departure lounge until nightfall. Much as she wanted to continue flying over Ireland, she knew her shield wouldn't last much longer, and it would be rather ironic to contain one sighting only to cause another.

Unless...she stopped, mid-spiral, as an imposing shape, squatting on the landscape, came into view. Foaly's words came back to her. _You miss him._

Did she? It wasn't such an absurd notion. The last time she had spoken to him, he appeared to be a rather decent person, for a human. And Foaly was right, in a way, about her subconscious. As he job became more and more desk-bound, she found herself reminiscing about the adventures she had with Fowl and co. It would be nice to check up on him. See how many Nobel prizes he had now (at last count it was four, with a fifth in the offing).

As usual, Lili Frond's voice spouted through her helmet as she entered Fowl airspace. It was curious to see Frond as she used to look: the painted face and over-curled hair looked natural now compared to the plastic mannequin that pouted in the LEP hallways. She listened patiently until it was over, scrutinising the digitally aged photographs of Artemis Fowl and Domovoi Butler. Artemis would be almost forty now; Butler the other side of sixty-five. The notion filled her with unease and she hovered uncertainly for a moment before steeling herself and descending.

**3.**

Artemis Fowl the second yawned, stretched, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had been woken up by the rude arrival of sunlight, and with it the acute neck pain that comes with falling asleep at a desk. Again.

He really had to stop doing this. His body - while in fine physical shape - was getting older by the day. It wouldn't take kindly to sleeping at right angles for much longer. He opened his eyes, and promptly shut them again.

Instead of seeing the rolling hills of his estate, framed by Egyptian linen curtains, Artemis saw a diminutive person, clad from head-to-toe in skin-tight black, attempting to pull a bizarre contraption through the second floor window of his study.

He coughed. "Can I help you?"

The figure froze; turned its head impossibly slowly. The man frowned in puzzlement. "Would you mind removing your helmet?" It did so.

"Holly?"

"Artemis."

"What are you doing here?"

"Umm..."

This wasn't the answer he was expecting. Having not heard from the elf for the last five years, or seen her in the last eight, he wouldn't have placed an unannounced social visit top on his list of reasons to get back in touch. The awkwardness of the situation didn't go unnoticed by Holly, either.

"How...how have you been?" He ventured after an embarrassed silence.

"Oh! You know. Busy. I was promoted to Commander last year so there's a lot to do."

Artemis nodded. It wasn't as though she didn't deserve it, after the amount of times she had saved Haven.

"And you? Keeping busy?"

He opened his mouth to respond; to tell her about the latest Nobel bid he was working on that would, with any luck, make his tenth award. But before he managed any of that, an angry, impatient voice shouted from the bowels of the house.

"Daddy!"

So should I continue? You're free to say no if you like - but then I'll cry, which is never good. Takes me ages to apply mascara.

Reviewers get one of Foaly's kids! He's got millions. One or two disappearing isn't a problem. :)


	2. Chapter Two

Growing Up

**Author's Note: **Welcome back! I really hope this chapter lives up to expectations now after the rather lovely response to the first one. You guys really know how to spoil a girl (special thanks to any anonymous reviewers, since I can't reply to you in person). I apologise if anybody finds this chapter a little sappy. I'm not a parent, so I've had to use - gasp - my imagination. If it came across too corny, I'm sorry!

Oh! And Ailíne is pronounced ALL - ayn. It's not a fangurly name chosen for the heck of it. Promise. :)

**

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4.**

Holly reeled; blinked. Artemis excused himself apologetically as he went to see to the angry voice.

A _father. _Now that was unexpected.

Before she recovered from this, another unexpected thing happened: Foaly's voice spoke in her ear through her helmet, muffled and distorted. He was having his breakfast. "So, little Arty reproduced, did he? Have you seen the spawn? How many heads does it have?"

"Foaly. Shut up." She had meant it to sound authoritative, but had the distinct feeling it came out rather weaker than she would have liked.

There was a crunching noise on the other end of the conversation; it sounded suspiciously like a carrot breaking in two. "Well, you know he got married. And reproduction is what humans do best."

"And centaurs." She said dryly. But it was true. She had been present at Artemis's wedding, eight years ago... "Has it been eight years already?"

"Yes, ma'am. Eight years since sweet, unsuspecting Jessica McDonough married the Scourge of the People."

"They're not calling him that so much anymore."

"Whatever."

Jessica McDonough. The name _did _ring a bell, and as she strained her memory, she thought she could put a face to it. Pretty - but not beautiful - with freckles chasing their way up and down the bridge of her nose.

"How did they meet again?"

Foaly sighed. "What am I, his biographer? Twelve years ago, Myles Fowl - you remember him? Artemis's younger brother - fell out of a tree."

Holly snorted. She couldn't help herself. Myles Fowl had always strongly reminded her of a baboon.

"_Anyway. _Madam Fowl panicked and had him taken to the local hospital. He was perfectly fine, of course; he has a very thick head, but when Artemis went to pick him up, who was on duty but Nurse McDonough?"

"Ahh."

"The rest, as they say, is history. Except of course for Butler conducting an extensive background check on Ms. McDonough before allowing her and Artemis to so much as hold hands."

"But Artemis was almost thirty by then!"

"Old habits die hard."

As Foaly spoke, Holly found herself remembering the story. At the time, she had dismissed it out-of-hand as some sort of infatuation on Artemis's part, like that French girl - soon forgotten in the face of the next adventure. But this was different. Holly didn't hear from her human friend for months at a time until, on one day that was extraordinary only in its ordinariness, he rang her communicator to tell her in a rather breathless and excitable voice that he was getting married in a few weeks and would she and the others like to come?

**5.**

Artemis left his study, carefully closing the door to hide Holly from sight. "Daddy!" The voice shouted again, losing its angry edge to become an inquisitive cry. He knew that if he didn't answer soon, there would be tears.

He rounded a corner, onto the main landing, where a diminutive figure stood in a purple gingham sundress. Her cheeks were red and she was taking a breath in preparation for another shout.

"Ailíne. What have I told you about shouting in the house?"

She blinked large brown eyes. As far as she was concerned, her father had appeared from nowhere. "Yes, but you said we could go to the park today and I couldn't find you. I don't want you to go without me!"

Artemis pushed back a dark forelock of hair. Ailíne imitated him. He smiled at this. "I'd never go to the park without you."

This appeared to satisfy her somewhat, and she toddled towards him on unsteady legs. "Then let's go now!"

"In a minute. Daddy just has some...work he needs to finish. Can you put your shoes on, or do you need some help?"

She beamed at him. "I can do it!" Without further ceremony, she turned away from him to her room, and began to sing to herself as she found the shoes her mother called her 'special pair'. Artemis shook his head. Despite having read several leading works on child development once his wife fell pregnant, Artemis felt constantly surprised by his daughter. It was an unusual feeling for a genius, although he had to admit it was not at all unwelcome. "Daddy!" Ailíne had reappeared in her doorway, head cocked to one side, the intonation and even the expression on her face as she said the word exactly matched her mother's. "You need to put your shoes on too or when we get there all the ducks will be gone."

Ducks. Of course. They were her latest obsession, alongside a rather bizarre fixation with penguins. He wondered whether she would become an Ornithologist when she was older.

"Daddy!" He moved that time.

**6.**

By the time Artemis returned to his study, Holly had managed to compose herself rather admirably. She stood with one hand on her hip, facing the door, and unshielded in this position as soon as Artemis stepped through the door. "A baby? I wouldn't have put you down for the fatherly type."

"You said the same about Foaly at one point."

"Ahh, but Foaly's just doing it for the good of the centaur race."

"Some People are too selfless for their own good."

Holly peered at him after this last statement. The witty banter between them seemed to come naturally, but he'd placed an odd emphasis on the word 'some' that gave an uneasily serious edge to the conversation. She shrugged. "In all seriousness, though, what's fatherhood like? What's your child like, come to think of it. Hopefully it got its mother's looks. It'll have enough of a stigma already just growing up with you as a father."

Artemis smiled stiffly and Holly immediately felt guilty. Had she hit a nerve? _"It," _he said firmly, "Is a 'she'. She's called Ailíne, and she's very beautiful."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -,"

"It doesn't matter." He waved an arm dismissively and moved to the desk, where he began to pack away his equipment. "What about you anyway? Are you and Trouble still...?" He left the sentence unfinished.

"Us? Oh, no. That's been over for years. I don't think we ever quite got over the employee/boss dynamic of the relationship, and then he was promoted to the council last year which clinched it. It wouldn't do for the chief of police to be in a relationship with a member of the council."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anybody else?"

"Nope. Just me." She flopped into a squashy sofa at the other end of the room and began to inspect the pictures that rested on an endtable next to it. A particularly large one in a modern, polished frame, caught her eye and she picked it up. In it, a dark eyed little girl was sitting in front of a striped windbreaker, a small beard of ice-cream framing her laughing mouth. "You're right; she is beautiful."

Artemis smiled, leaning heavily against his now empty desk. Holly noticed how tired he looked. She'd seen the same thing in Foaly and even Grub Kelp - that odd, heady mix of tiredness and extreme contentment. A odd pain ran through the hand that was holding the picture frame, and she put it back on the table. "I'm sorry, you have work to do. I shouldn't have come here unannounced." She made to leave.

He straightened up then. "No, I'm glad you did. I think about you quite often - normally in the same train of thought that wishes we hadn't lost touch."

"Yeah...me too."Silence reigned in the room. Artemis coughed. "You know, I actually don't have any work planned for today. I'm taking Ailíne to the park for a while: she loves the ducks. But if you don't have to rush off and save the world, you're welcome to join us - shielded, of course. I'd like you to see her...even if she can't see you."

Holly blinked. Had she been asked before today whether she ever thought to hear the word 'duck' come out of Artemis Fowl's mouth, she'd have thought she was going mad. "I'd -,"

She wanted to turn him down. Really, she did. Her magic probably wouldn't last the trip and she'd most likely be ignored for the duration, whilst Artemis tended to his daughter and tried not to look crazy by talking to thin air. But there was something in his eyes; a kind of veiled eagerness that led her to complete the sentence with, "-love to."

**7.**

Of course, half an hour later, she wasn't thinking so much of the excited glint in her old friend's eyes than of the struggle she was having to keep shielded. Artemis had driven - actually behind the wheel, which had shocked her - while she lay in the boot so she wouldn't have to shield, to conserve her magic. It was around midday that most humans spotted glimpses of what they called 'heat haze', which was actually caused by a rapidly vibrating fairy, and so she wanted to conserve her magic as much as possible to avoid a potentially disastrous sighting. He let her out, while ostentatiously grabbing a half-loaf of bread that had been Holly's companion for the journey. "Are you alright?" He whispered as she straightened out her uniform.

"Never better." She replied, sitting up and shielding in one fluid motion. "You really know how to show a girl a good time." He scowled in mock offence, but she noticed he carefully waved his arm in the boot space to make sure she'd left before slamming the lid.

As Artemis walked around the side of the car with Holly following, she finally got her first real glimpse of the elusive Ailíne. Artemis was right; she was beautiful - for a human. Baby-fine ringlets framed a soft round face but it was the eyes - open and mysterious, innocent and knowing all at once - that caught her attention. They were oddly familiar.

"Come on Daddy!" There was the voice again. Holly noticed that she had a slight Irish lilt, unlike her father's clipped English. "We need to go and see the ducks, and I can tell you about them. The ducks here are called mull - mal...mallets, and the Daddy duck has very pretty feathers."

"A mallet? Are you sure?" Artemis asked, eyebrows knitting together.

"_Yes._" She sighed impatiently, and Holly saw in her face a frustrated thirteen-year-old boy in the Arctic, trying to explain the principles of broadcasting.

Ailíne took her father's hand and pulled him over to the duck pond. Holly trailed behind, feeling incredibly out-of-place. She watched as he tore up pieces of bread and handed them to his daughter, keeping a careful hold of her at all times as she threw the ripped-up loaf into the water with all her strength, although many failed to even clear the edge.

**8.**

After a while, Ailíne tired of watching the ducks waddle up the bank to snap at the bread she left there, and so the trio - father and daughter, with the fairy commander trailing behind them invisibly - went to the children's play area. It was a small, soft rectangle of gentle slopes and padded frames. Ailíne dropped her father's hand immediately and ran for a free swing. Artemis, in turn, went to join the ranks of watchful parents on the benches placed conveniently at the sidelines. Holly followed him, and once he had chosen his seat - a vacant bench in the shade - hopped up next to him.

"Are you still there?" He whispered, lips remaining carefully still.

"Of course I am. I've got nowhere better to be." There was an oddly resentful edge to her voice as she said this.

So how was that? Sappy in a not-sappy kind of way, I hope?

Reviewers get one of Artemis's Nobel Prizes, since Foaly's children are proving a little too difficult to package. And if anyone can think of a reason why I picked the name Ailíne, they get...my respect?

What do you mean that's worthless?


	3. Chapter Three

Growing Up

**Author's Note:** OK, final chapter! I hope you like it. Again, a huge thanks to all my reviewers - especially the anonymous ones!

**"**_When you are old and grey and full of sleep,  
and nodding by the fire, take down this book,  
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look  
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;_

_How many loved your moments of glad grace,  
And loved your beauty with love false or true,  
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,  
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;_

_And bending down beside the glowing bars,  
Murmer, a little sadly, how Love fled  
And paced upon the mountains overhead  
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars._**"**

_- When You Are Old,_ W.B. Yeats_._

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**9.**

Artemis let out a long breath. He had wanted something like this for years. A chance to reconnect: to be friends again with the first being that had formed a friendship with him without being paid for the trouble. Not that he and Butler weren't still close, although the older man had retired some years ago to a modest Tuscan villa.

Then again, if being married had taught him one thing, it was that relationships never stayed the same. Not really. He and Jessica had managed some spectacular arguments that attested to this.

"So how's the marriage going?"

Artemis jolted out of his reverie at Holly's show of apparent psychic ability. "What?"

"You were playing with your wedding ring. It keeps catching the sunlight and blinding me. How often do you polish that thing, anyway?"

"Once a week." He replied absently. Now that Holly had pointed it out, he became more aware of his movements. Eight years was a long time to wear a piece of jewellery, and the ring had become as much part of him as his heart or his eyes.

Well, one of his eyes, anyway. He still saw the hazel eye as part of Holly. He found it helped to remember her.

"You and Jessica are alright, aren't you?" It may have been his imagination, but he thought he heard a slight force veiled behind her concerns.

"Actually...," he gripped his thighs with tense hands, shoulders square, and a sigh somewhere at the bottom of his voice. "I'm terrified."

"Of what? Her? Last I remembered she was about a foot shorter than you."

He laughed in spite of himself, although Holly noticed his posture didn't relax. Silence rustled the grass and carried children's screams from the playground over to them.

"Artemis, whatever it is, I'm sure -,"

"She's pregnant."

Holly's mouth formed a small 'o' shape, slacking from after her voice was cut off. With difficulty, she worked her mouth into a short, incomplete sentence.

"How many months?"

"Two. You're the first person I've told, actually. It's not really a good idea to mention a human pregnancy before the third month." Holly nodded. With fairies, pregnancies were much shorter. By two months the world and his wife would know you're expecting.

"What are you afraid of?"

Artemis laughed, visibly more relaxed as though he had just confessed a painful secret. "Honestly? I have no idea. I always heard first children were the hardest to deal with - the second time around I should be completely prepared. Jessica thinks it's normal prenatal worries, I just...," he swallowed. No doubt the next secret would be even harder to admit. "...I don't think I make a good parent."

Holly scooped a piece of falling blossom from the air. He watched, fascinated, as it shivered for a second in suspension and then vanished, the vibrations that kept Holly shielded jolting the blossom along into invisibility. There was no other evidence that she was there for a few seconds, leaving Artemis to shuffle guiltily before she delivered her verdict.

"I don't know much about children, Artemis. Practically nothing about human children. And a nurturing nature isn't exactly your strongest attribute." She paused for breath as the weight of what she was about to say settled somewhere near her hips. "But seeing you with your daughter, you look happy. More than that: you look content. And, however inexperienced I may be, I can tell you belong here. That there's nowhere else you'd rather be."

"Right here?" Artemis raised a questioning eyebrow, indicating the graffiti-ed bench. Holly hit him on the shoulder.

"You know what I mean."

Silence reclaimed control of the conversation, but it was different this time; companionable. The wind sighed through the trees, blowing more cherry blossom off its branches.

"Holly?"

"Yes?"

"You're going to make a brilliant mother."

Now it was Holly's turn for the eyebrow raise, but of course, Artemis couldn't see this. "Maybe I will. But I don't know. I'm not sure I'll be passing on genes anytime soon."

"Oh? I wouldn't be quite so certain about that." Artemis's voice was high and rather tight.

"Why?" The question was quick in coming.

"You've seen Ailíne, haven't you? Noticed her eyes?"

"Yes, I did think they were quite unusual...not..._no_..."

"Both mine and Jessica's eyes are blue. Well, both hers are. One of mine is a fetching shade of hazel."

"That's impossible."

"Not strictly true. It's quite simple, actually. When we switched eyes, the magic must have altered our DNA slightly, to stop our bodies rejecting the new organs. What is slightly unusual is that both her eyes are brown whereas normally heterochromia - that's different coloured eyes - is either inherited or ignored. I suppose the magic could have made the brown colour my dominant allele, but that -,"

"OK, I take it back. It is possible. Don't bore me with the details. She has my eyes?"

"Yes she does. And - oh, I think she's bored of the playground. She's coming over."

Holly duly shut her mouth as Artemis stood up and walked over to his daughter. Shielding made her invisible, not inaudible, and although she had hundreds of questions pushing against her closed lips, she wanted to see Ailíne's eyes, properly, for herself.

"Are you ready to go home?" Artemis's voice took on a gentler tone when he addressed Ailíne.

"Home." She repeated, walking up to her father's leg and nestling into it with a large yawn. Artemis smiled and bent down to pick her up. _Holly's right, _he thought. _There's nowhere else I'd rather be._

**10.**

The journey back to Fowl Manor was spent largely in silence. Ailíne fell asleep in her booster seat almost as soon as Artemis had strapped her in, and Holly heard no noise in the boot but the sound of the wheels on Irish tarmac and the occasional crescendo in whatever classical concerto Artemis was listening to. She liked the quiet. There had been so little of it lately.

Holly jolted awake at the sudden onslaught of waning sunlight. _D'Arvit. How long have I been asleep? _Luckily it was Artemis who opened the boot, and so it didn't matter that she didn't have chance to shield.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No, it doesn't matter. I shouldn't have been asleep anyway. What time is it?"

He checked his watch: Swiss, obviously. "About half past four. There was an accident on one of the roads, so we were held up for a while."

"What about Ailíne?"

"Still asleep. She always wears herself out in the playground; she loves the climbing frames."

"And you're quite sure she's your daughter?"

Artemis scowled at her.

"Sorry."

"So is there anything you want to do? Sunset's not for another two hours - I take it you're waiting to complete the ritual."

Holly nodded. "I'd still better go. I've only gotten a twenty-four hour visa and despite being Commander of the LEP, for some reason I still have to have a valid visa. And I'm guessing Jessica will be home soon."

"Yes, but you don't have to lea -,"

"I do, Artemis. Trust me. Being a third wheel is not my idea of a good time." The resignation in her voice made his breath catch, but he didn't push the issue. He had a feeling she'd done enough couple-watching from a lonely sideline to last a lifetime, and this time she wouldn't even be able to make sarcastic comments.

"Well then. This is goodbye, I guess."

"Something like that." She picked up the wings which remained in the boot during their park outing. Artemis took them off her and held them out so she could slide her arms through the loops.

"Holly?"

"Yes?" Her voice was distracted as she adjusted the clasps, wondering how they managed to become badly fitting despite having been used by her only a few hours ago.

"We'll keep in touch this time." Artemis let go of the wings as the final _click!_ meant the wings were in place. Holly turned around with difficulty.

"Of course we will."

"And Holly?"

"Yes?"

"Find someone."

"What?"

"Not necessarily a romantic partner. Find a companion. Someone who makes you happy."

"Artemis, I am -,"

"- lonely."

"I was going to say happy."

"You spend your life working so that others can spend it living. That doesn't seem like a fair trade."

Holly laughed. "You can't resist psychoanalysing people, can you?"

"It gives me something to do."

"I'll think about it. Thank you for today. It made a nice change."

The fairy stretched out her arms. He mimicked the gesture and they walked into each other's arms, hugging tightly; fiercely. "And don't think I missed Ailíne's name. 'Elf'? Subtle."

Artemis let go of Holly, a rueful smile on his face. "Well, some things are too good to be forgotten."

The LEP Commander tutted, flicking switches on her wings. "Don't try doing sentimental, Artemis. It's painful."

And with that, she took off out of the car boot, suddenly invisible. The dark-haired man watched the sky for some time after he would have lost sight of her even with normal vision, and then, with a sigh, closed the boot to the car and turned to wake his sleeping child; his new-old fantasy. His elf.

* * *

OK, that's it! Just in case the end confused you a little, Ailíne means 'elf'. According to the website I found, anyway. A lot of people said they found it meant 'gas', so who knows? Let's just go on my interpretation.  
What did you think of it? As a whole, or just this last chapter. Be honest!

Reviewers get their own long goodbye with an Artemis Fowl character of their choice. Or me! Since this is goodbye for this fic. :)

Oh, a little P.S. for anybody following The Private Wound. It's still in progress! Just moving at rather a snail's pace due to exams. Sorry.


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